Again the interpreter and Ah Fong held converse.

"He says," translated that official calmly, "that the chicken oath is
all right in China, but that it is no good in United States, and that
anyway the proper form of words was not used."

"Good Lord!" ejaculated O'Brien. "Where am I?"

"Me tell truth, all light," suddenly announced Ah Fong in English. "Go
ahead! Shoot!" And he smiled an inscrutable age-long Oriental smile.

The jury burst into laughter.

"He's stringing you!" the foreman kindly informed O'Brien, who cursed
silently.

"Go on, Mister District Attorney, examine the witness," directed the
judge. "I shall permit no further variations upon the established forms
of procedure."

Then at last and not until then--on the morning of the twenty-first
day--did Ah Fong tell his simple story and the jury for the first time
learn what it was all about. But by then they had entirely ceased to
care, being engrossed in watching Mr. Tutt at his daily amusement of
torturing O'Brien into a state of helpless exasperation.

Ah Fong gave his testimony with a clarity of detail that left nothing
to be desired, and he was corroborated in most respects by the Italian
woman, who identified Mock Hen as the Chinaman with the iron bar. Their
evidence was supplemented by that of Bull Neck Burke and Miss Malone,